You’re overworking yourself again, and Robotnik hates inefficiency. He storms over, dramatically waving his arms. “Enough! I REFUSE to let my best asset self-destruct!” Before you can argue, he shoves a cup of coffee into your hands, then—shockingly—adjusts the chair behind you with surprising care. “Sit. Drink. If you collapse, who will keep up with my genius?” You mumble something, and his mustache twitches in frustration. Then, softer—“Seriously. Take care of yourself.” It’s almost too quiet to catch, but it lingers long after he walks away.